Chapter Fifteen:
Bulma looked over at the medical table to her right. Yamcha lay there, unmoving, with his eyes closed. He'd been unconscious since Goku brought him up here. Tubes came out of his skin and needles were in his arms, hooked up to liquids that she couldn't recognize in clear, plastic bags on wheels. So many wires surrounded him, and it made her wonder how she managed to escape with barely any damage. The doctors all said that her injuries were minor. The biggest wound was on her back, and they said it would leave a thin scar where, apparently, she'd been cut open with a knife. But other than that, she was bruised and beaten, but it was nothing that couldn't be healed relatively fast by the Colds' advanced medical technology.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the treatment bay, but it couldn't have been more than a half hour, before a nurse told her she was free to go. Vegeta had been outside the door when she was admitted, and she hoped he'd stayed there, like she'd asked him to. She knew he was an impatient man, so she didn't get her hopes up… Or, she tried not to, at least.
She stood and measured her balance, making sure she wouldn't topple over as soon as she let go of the hard bed and her stability. Thankfully, everything seemed to be in working order, so she thanked the nearest nurse and quickly headed for the door, eager to see him…
Since her confusing revelation, she wasn't sure how to act. Of course, acting normal would be the best option, but she wasn't sure how that was possible anymore. And if she tried too hard, she'd end up ignoring him on purpose or acting too much out of the ordinary.
It wasn't like she was fearful… Those things that Chichi, Launch, Maron and even Goku said, about Vegeta treating her like she was special… She wanted to believe that was true, but she also knew the horrible things he'd done to her. And how those things conflicted with what they were trying to tell her. All she knew was that something in her chest tightened when she thought about him, and turning around the corner outside the door and seeing him pacing down the hall gave her an extreme case of the butterflies.
She looked away too fast. She knew she was already blushing, and she begged her mind to turn off the butterflies. This was something that would pass… it had to be. Maybe she was just feeling anxious because she'd been in a literal dungeon for the past twenty-four hours, and he'd practically saved her life. He'd killed people for her and he physically carried her to safety. It was like those stories Chichi used to talk to her about, with a princess and a prince, and how the princess got saved and the prince defended her honor… or whatever…
Bulma frowned at the floor. And he was a prince… But she wasn't even close to a princess, and she knew that was one of the biggest reasons she'd never admitted it to herself before now. There was just no way it could possibly work out. She was a chambermaid. He was the prince of a savage planet. Even if they wanted to, no one would ever accept her as Vegeta's… She would just be another one of his concubines… or worse, a special whore.
Vegeta saw her and started walking over. He looked… as good as ever. And Bulma found her gaze drifting back down to the floor as the butterflies came back. God, she had to get these stupid feelings under control.
"Did they heal you?" he asked angrily, and she silently wondered why he was in a bad mood all of a sudden. He strolled right up to her and looked down at her face. Bulma tried, but she couldn't meet his eyes. Her gaze stayed between his chest and his collarbone. She felt ridiculous.
"I'm fine. They healed everything, but the cut on my back is going to leave a light scar. They said it was too deep for them to completely cover the mark, but they did their best."
He snorted. "I'll have to stop by later and—"
"There's no need to punish anyone!" she quickly replied, still staring at his collarbone. "They did what they could. Whatever they couldn't do is just their equipment lacking. But they were… very kind to me."
"Whatever," he said. "Let's go." And then he turned and headed down the hall, not turning to check if she was following. Things really went back to normal… too fast. She was hoping he'd be a bit more… concerned, like he was before. She wondered if he'd agree to talk about it later. Probably not, but she could try.
She found the strength to look up as she started walking, staring at his back. His shoulders were wide and he walked like he was angry… confident… she couldn't find the right word to describe it. He walked like no one else. Like he was a prince. Like no one measured up to him.
But then he stopped and turned, but it was too fast and Bulma's eyes met his. She gasped and looked away, but not far enough to miss the dumbfounded expression he wore from her instant reaction. Oh god… He must have noticed something… Bulma gulped.
"At least wait until we're back in my room before you react like that," he said, lifting an eyebrow. And she knew he could tell how her body physically reacted sometimes… But after many seconds of silence brewed like a loud tea pot, Vegeta growled to himself in annoyance. "I'm starving. The only reason I found out you were gone was because I was hungry, and you were late with my meal. And I'll let you know, I was devising all the various ways I was going to punish you before I went looking. And do you know how irritating it is to have to search for a maid? I was so angry, I might've taken your little kitchen bitch's head off if Kakarot hadn't been there, as well."
He was ranting, and the things he said were meant to be jabs at her. Maybe they were supposed to wrench a reaction out of her, she wasn't sure. But she knew him like no one else did, and she had a feeling that he was just talking for the sake of talking… for whatever reason. She couldn't take his words personally when he spoke like that, either.
"Thank you," she replied instead. "For coming to find me."
"I wouldn't have had to do anything if you hadn't been wandering aimlessly around the castle," he sneered. "Don't try to lie about it, either, woman. The only reason you could have been down there is if you went snooping around and they caught you. The next time you do something stupid, I'm not coming to get you."
Her eyes hit the floor, but for another list of reasons this time. And when he started walking again, she just followed behind him, watching the heels of his Saiyan boots as they lifted off the ground and moved forward as he walked. She felt like it took triple the time, but they finally stood outside his door and he swung it open and stepped inside. Bulma swallowed a mouthful of saliva and walked in after him.
"There's the little doggie!" a childish voice barked, and Bulma had almost forgot all about the princess. But it came back to her in a second and she paused, wondering if she was going to be punished after all. "I see you left your cage before I allowed you to. What a bad doggie. I suppose I'll have to discipline you before breakfast. That's good. At least I'll get some exercise in before—"
"Shut up," Vegeta said bluntly, walking towards the garderobe. He didn't even turn around to look at the place before he closed the door behind him and Bulma heard him start to run the water.
"I guess he's leaving you here with me for your disciplining," the little girl said with a devilish smirk. "I got a good night's rest, but when I woke up, you weren't where I left you. And not only that, but the prince never came to bed, which made me super mad. Apparently, he'd been awake all night, training. But he was oh-so mad when he got back and his dinner wasn't on the table. I feel bad for you, really. Both of us are going to have to teach you how things work around here. Lucky for me, I get my turn first—"
"I thought I told you to shut up!" Vegeta barked, stepping out from under the doorway with just his pants on. The water running got louder when he opened the door. He grabbed a towel from a drawer on one of his dressers, scowled at the princess, and went back to his shower.
"See? He doesn't care about you at all," the girl smirked. "That's so funny."
"He wasn't talking to me, you moron. I wasn't even talking," Bulma murmured, but of course the princess heard her. She was almost as strong as a Saiyan, which probably meant that she was as fast, too. And also had their heightened senses. That was unfortunate.
"What did you just say to me, slave?" The Warkind princess took three steps forward, and just as her foot hit the ground on the third step, Vegeta flashed in front of her, the door to the garderobe slamming open when he was already standing still. He looked down at the child, shirtless. Bulma couldn't stop thinking about how the muscles in his back looked perfect.
"I'm not interested in you tonight. Go back to your guardian and tell her that you've offended me and I don't want to listen to your annoying voice scream and moan in my fucking ear all night."
"Wh… What? How have I offended you, your Highness?"
There was a pause before he answered. "You took the liberty to sleep in my bed without asking. Now I'll have to wait for my servant to not only collect the meal she forgot about, but also change the sheets so I don't have to sleep with your scent in my face all night. Not only that, but she neglected to take proper care of herself and hasn't gotten any sleep. Neither have I. That means that I'm extra irritable and she'll be extra slow with her work, which puts me in an even worse mood."
"But… W…Why didn't you come home last night, my Lord—"
"Get out!"
The princess scurried to grab the few clothes she had lying on the floor and rushed out the door.
"Was that smart?" Bulma suddenly asked, wondering if Vegeta was allowed to just send the girl away like that. It didn't seem like something the Warkinds would appreciate and pissing them off was obviously a bad idea. Bulma really wasn't in the mood for a planetary war… especially when both sides were so dramatically stronger than even the most powerful Earthling. She wouldn't want to be in the middle of it, even though she felt like it already.
"Did you not hear me, woman? I said that you have to get me food and change these filthy sheets! You've been missing for an entire night, and half of the day. You've been healed so if you start slacking I'm going to get angry. Do you understand?"
Bulma just nodded at him, getting a feeling like a weight just dropped in her stomach. This was what she'd been thinking about before. Even if she loved him… Even on the off-chance that he gave a damn about her… She would always be his servant. She would never be his equal. Being together, in any form of the word, was… impractical, if not impossible. And thinking about it now, with him standing half-naked in front of her, wasn't helping.
But something else in the back of her mind wanted her to believe otherwise. It had to be the stupidest part of her, she figured. She had images flash in her imagination of her saying his name now, and closing the distance between them. Kissing him… Her mind drifted to him pushing her down onto the bed and saying "fuck the sheets" and rolling her on top of them anyway. And they could lay there for a little while, mouth-on-mouth, feeling each other's breath. And then… then nothing. Nothing would happen. Maybe he would try something, but she would just have to push him off and say "no, that's not who I am," and he would get angry and send her to go get his food anyway…
"I'll have your meal ready in fifteen minutes, sir," she said softly. "I'll change the sheets right after. They'll be ready when you're finished eating." She lowered her eyes to the floor and turned, but as she reached for the doorknob, and pulled the door open about four inches, Vegeta's hand came around and slammed it shut. It slammed and the noise made Bulma jump. So did his voice right next to her, in the next moment.
"…Sir?" he whispered in her ear, and she shivered from his breath and the closeness. She stared at the space where the door and the wall met. "Take your shirt off."
"Excuse me?"
She felt his hand immediately meet the bottom of the shirt they'd given her in the medical wing. It was a little long on her, so it ended in the middle of her butt, and she felt his finger graze her there. She jumped when she felt him sliding up under the back of her shirt. She shivered again and whirled around, putting her hands out in front of her and pushing him away. Well, trying to. She didn't move him. She gasped when his hand followed her spin and landed on her upper stomach. She yelped and tried to back up, but only slammed into the door an inch behind her. She was well aware that she wasn't wearing a bra, and his fingertips had come dangerously close to grazing the bottom of her breasts.
"Turn back around," he said flatly. "I want to see the scar."
"No! Stop it!" She grabbed his wrist through the medical wing's shirt and tried to wrench him off of her, but he kept his palm flat against her stomach and he wouldn't move it. "What do you want from me?!" she screamed, and she suddenly felt everything hit her like a truck. Everything that happened down there… The torture, the grabbing, Yamcha… the cold, the hard floor, the dampness. How she was beaten and bruised and thrown on a table and cut open. How she was threatened and almost raped and everything in between.
And she couldn't stop herself when the tears started falling and the screaming started. She barely knew it was her making the loud noises until her legs gave out. Vegeta removed his hand in a fraction of a second and made sure she didn't hit the ground too hard. But he stood there, and he watched her for what felt like a couple minutes. She didn't even look up at him. She kept her eyes glued to the floor as she moved to her hands and knees and stared at his bare feet. This was where she was meant to be, anyway, right? This was her position, on her knees below the prince's dark eyes. And sure, he could be a little sweet when he wanted to be, but this was his position, too—standing above her, arms crossed, looking down at her on the ground. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, this was how the world worked now. This was how things had to be, and this was how they'd stay—
Bulma yelped as he grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her to her feet. She sobbed as he led her to his bed, and she quickly shook her head at him, her eyes finally going to his face. He looked back at her for a moment before closing his eyes and pausing.
"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, eyes narrowed.
"Like… what?" she asked through her crying, but he didn't answer her. She shouted when he tossed her onto the bed and crawled up next to her. "Vegeta…" she cried, knowing how helpless she sounded. She hated how weak she truly was. "Please… no…"
"I said, stop looking at me like that," he repeated angrily, grabbing her and pulling her up to him.
She winced and turned her head away when his face was too close to hers. She heard him tsk and dared to look into his eyes again. He wasn't glaring… And she wondered how she was looking at him then. She wondered what reaction she was giving that was making him so mad. Why did she make him so mad?
"Fine," he snarled, releasing her and rolling over. He put his back to her and sat up. He didn't turn around. "Stay here until I'm finished," he commanded, standing and heading back to his running water in the other room.
Bulma lay on the giant bed, her legs hanging off the end, crying softly to herself. Everything that happened to her, up to this point, was bad. She felt like there was no good left in her life. Her parents were murdered, her planet was destroyed, her friends were torn away from her, save for a select few. She was forced to work for an old murderer for years before being told to be a servant to royalty. And that royalty had taken off her collar, threatened her with rape, torture, banishment… She watched her best friend almost get raped. Then she was trapped in a dungeon and now she was just waiting to get raped by a man she thought she could one day be in love with… have a life with… And now… She didn't even know how to move forward anymore.
And how could she? She no longer had to watch out for Chichi—her best friend had Goku, who would clearly die for her. The black-haired beauty was always so positive, and now she had someone to love, and someone who loved her in return. And it gave her life a wonderful purpose. Bulma couldn't help but feel a bit of envy for her friend, even though she knew that Chichi had been through equally horrible things ever since the Saiyans discovered Earth…
She wiped her eyes after losing track of the time and sat up, pursing her lips. She wanted to believe that her life could only get better, but she knew what was meant to happen to her in two weeks now. It was getting closer by the minute, and there was no way out.
She wanted someone to talk to. She wanted to go find Chichi, or Launch… hell, even Maron was someone to vent to right now. But she wasn't allowed to leave. She turned around and reached for a large pillow, dragging it over and tightly hugging it to her chest. She felt the tears start to come back, and she gritted her teeth and whipped the pillow back to the front of the bedframe. She grabbed her hair and stifled a cry. She brought her knees up and hugged them to herself, trying to stop her body from shaking.
Without thinking, tears streaming down her face, she jumped off the bed, landed on her feet, and ran to the door that separated her from the prince. She stood outside of it for a moment, palms flat against it, before turning the handle and sliding it open. The water was still running, and she could see his silhouette through the steam and the water. She watched him turn, but she couldn't see his face in the thick steam.
"What are you doing…?" he said, his arm lifting to run his fingers through his wet hair. Bulma just let out another round of sobs and rushed towards him. With no curtain between them, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him as tight as she could. She felt him jump, which was a first, but she didn't care. She didn't care that he was naked. She didn't care that she was fully clothed, and everything on her was getting soaked and heavy. She just held onto him as if her life depended on it. And she felt like it kind of did.
"Vegeta," she cried. She wanted to tell him how scared she was. She wanted to tell him that she was in anguish. She wanted to tell him that she didn't want to be with Yamcha. She didn't want to have Earthling children. She didn't want to get raped and have a crowd watch her as it happened. And she wanted to tell him that she loved him. But no more words would come out of her mouth. She could only say his name, and she started whispering it, over and over, into his wet skin.
Her mouth was on his chest, and she pushed her lips against him in the hot water. The steam made it hard to see, which made clinging to him easier for her. She didn't want him to look at her right now. But at the same time, she wanted him to see her. She wanted him to look at her and feel something. Anything. She wanted him to prove to her that he cared if she lived or died. Sometimes she could've swore she had the right answer, but then he always did something to change her mind. She didn't know what went on inside his head, or if she was just a way to waste time for him.
But after a few more moments, she felt his arms come up and he held her. She squeezed him tighter and his fingers grazed the back of her neck, massaging her there. She felt him slide his fingers under and over her anti-gravity collar, but she felt sure he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. She felt him relax his body and his head slumped.
"Why didn't you just let me kill him?" he whispered, and his voice was hoarse.
They just stood like that for a few more minutes, and Bulma made sure to never loosen her grip. She kept squeezing him tighter and tighter, like if she loosened her arms he would back away from her. And she wasn't ready for that. Not yet. She didn't want to step away from him and have him eye her up and down like a soaked pet. She didn't want things to go back to normal. She didn't want to leave and go get him a change of clothes and his dinner and change the sheets and listen tomorrow night as he tried to have children with that little brat. She didn't want to invite whores into his room and prepare them all meals and set the table for one more when she heard him fucking a woman a little longer than usual. And she certainly didn't want him to turn away from her. She didn't want to let him go, and have him turn away and tell her to leave the room. She instinctively squeezed him tighter again, her muscles sore and screaming at her. But she couldn't stop. She never wanted this to stop. But she couldn't just let everything be…
"Vegeta," she cried into his chest, squeezing him tighter yet again. "I… love you."
Immediately, she realized her mistake, and without thinking, she let go of him and staggered backwards, nearly falling. But before she could even look at his expression, she whipped around and hurried out the door, into the main room. She ran around the large table in the center, knowing that she was creating huge puddles in her wake. But she didn't care.
That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted things to be different, yes. She longed for change, but… The prince was still… Vegeta was still… She didn't want to be used, and yet she'd just given him all the ammunition he would ever need to torture her for the rest of her life. All she had to do was hide it. All she had to do was never let those words leave her lips—
Bulma screamed when she blinked and he was standing in front of her. He'd had the decency to put a towel on, but she caught a glimpse of his face before looking down. His eyes were narrowed and she wasn't sure if she was shaking because the water was making her cold, or something else.
"Look at me," he commanded, and his tone was harsh. Bulma couldn't lift her eyes. "Don't make me repeat myself, woman."
She took a few seconds to look up to his bare chest, back down and then off to the side.
"I can't," she sobbed, squeezing her lids shut and wrapping her arms around herself. She wanted to sink to the floor, but she settled for slumping where she stood.
"You're getting water all over the floor," he sneered.
"So, what? You want me to take my clothes off?" she asked heatedly. She meant it to be rhetorical, but of course he answered her anyway.
"Yes."
"Fuck you."
"Not tonight."
"Not tomorrow, either."
"No… not tomorrow."
"Or the next day—"
"I think I get the point, woman." He took a few steps forward and closed the distance between them. When he put his finger under her chin, and lifted her face, she closed her eyes. It didn't stop the tears from coming out, but she still couldn't look at his face. "Undress. Now. And get into bed. I'll join you in a few minutes… Take clothes from the bottom drawer if your body makes you uncomfortable."
She felt a slight breeze and knew he was gone. She opened one eye and heard the door shut behind her. A few moments later, the water stopped running. She looked behind her and saw the puddles all over the floor. She mentally rolled her eyes when she noticed a puddle just as large where he had been standing.
She heard rustling behind the door and quickly undressed. She wasn't wearing a bra or panties, so it was easy to remove the few clothes she was wearing. She dropped them on the floor, right on top of the water, and quickly pulled out a large white tank top and a pair of blue shorts. She slid them on and slowly made her way to the bed.
After a few minutes, she heard the door open, and footsteps approach the bedroom. She kept her face hidden in one of the pillows, but she couldn't see when he turned out the lights. She felt him sit at the edge of the bed, and then lay down, his weight making her roll a little towards him. She kept her distance, though.
"You… aren't hungry, then?" she asked, trying not to have silence fill the air. She knew she'd just said something she shouldn't have, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep if he just got into bed and didn't say anything.
"Are you?" he replied, and his voice was soft. She could tell he had his back to her from how his voice sounded a little muffled.
Bulma didn't want to answer him. Of course she was hungry, but she didn't want to leave and come back with a whole meal. With her luck, the prince would make her sit down and eat with him. She'd rather just sleep right now. It felt a bit weird, though, knowing it was midday.
"The princess's… scent… isn't bothering you anymore?" she whispered.
"It never did. I just wanted her to leave."
"And you were really going to make me change the sheets?" She almost laughed. Almost.
"Obviously not," he snarled, making Bulma jump in the dark.
"Sorry," she whispered.
She felt the bed move as she listened to the prince adjust himself, and she shivered when she could feel his next breath almost right in her face. He'd turned to face her in the dark, and she wondered if he could see her when she couldn't see him. She closed her eyes, just in case. She parted her lips to ask him another question, but she decided against it. What was the point, anyway? Obviously, he'd just brushed over what she'd said. It was just another reason she knew he didn't care…
"I can't help you," he said suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't stop what's going to happen to you… What's done is done. You shouldn't fight it. You need to accept it—"
"But Chichi was saved. By Goku. Why can't you…" Bulma trailed off.
"Why can't I what? Claim you?" Vegeta spat, and it hurt a little. "Because you asked me to save your friend. And I did, by convincing my father that she could be claimed, and in return, no one else can be. So, congratulations." His voice was dripping with anger, but it wasn't at her. Bulma didn't feel afraid of him right now. "You saved your friend. Now you have to live with your choices."
"You think I shouldn't have asked you to help her?"
"If you hadn't, maybe I could've saved you instead," he said, his voice going soft, but his heat came back, as always. "Then you go and stop me from killing that pathetic bastard. It seems to me like you're not actually against this mating, since you're trying so hard to keep everything in order."
"Yamcha is my friend…"
"Your friend? He's also the male who's going to rape you. He's going to be the father of your pathetic offspring. And he's not going to stop himself from hurting you. He can't."
"He wasn't always like that…"
"He is now. Stop living in the past."
The darkness went silent again.
"What if…" Bulma pursed her lips. "What if I couldn't get pregnant?" She squeezed her eyes tight.
"Then my father would see no use for you and he would have you killed. But good luck having the medical department agreeing to a procedure like that. It'll never happen"
Obviously, he didn't get what she was trying to say, which was a blessing. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Asking Vegeta to give her a child right now was almost the same thing as getting raped by Yamcha.
"There's… nothing you can do?" she whimpered.
"No."
"But you're the prince. Isn't there—"
"Enough, woman. You're an Earthling female, and one of the few remaining in the universe. I have no jurisdiction to change that, or to change what my father knows needs to be done. Do you want your species to die out? Because it's happening."
"Please, just… try something—"
"Why should I?" he asked, and it felt like a needle driving into her chest, making painful explosions go off all inside her. She brought a hand up to her chest and squeezed the shirt over her heart. She felt like throwing up. "There's nothing I can do," he repeated, and every time his voice got softer, it seemed more and more forced. "You'll endure the mating, and when it's over, you'll come back here. I'll…" He trailed off for a second. "You'll be able to have your Earthling child within the castle walls. You'll be well protected."
"So… that's it then?" Bulma pursed her lips. She was done crying. She didn't want to cry anymore, but she wasn't sure if she could stop herself. But before she could think of anything else to say, or feel, Vegeta moved closer and his lips met hers. And he was as gentle as he'd been when he took her from the dungeon.
She brought her hands up and cupped his face, kissing him a little harder. He complied, but he wasn't acting like he wanted it to go much further. So, after a few moments, he just stopped. Bulma thought he was going to turn away from her, but instead he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. In a second, she was flush against his body, and she immediately noticed his bare skin. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, but his upper body was warm. She was suddenly very self-conscious about the fact that the sides of her breasts fell out of the oversized tank top she'd pulled out of the prince's dresser. If she moved the wrong way, she might as well be wearing nothing.
But he just held her. And he ended the kiss so soon. Usually it lasted longer… Thoughts raced through her head, and the only thing she could focus on was the fact that she'd so blindly blurted out how she felt… And he never reacted to it. He never even said anything about it. It was as f he didn't hear her, but she knew that was a lie.
"What am I to you?" she whispered in the dark, her mouth on his bare chest again. Her face got hot when her brain reminded her of holding him in the shower. God, he'd been naked and she just… grabbed him like there was nothing wrong with that. And even the prince had been surprised. He must have thought the medical staff drugged her or something.
Vegeta never answered, so Bulma pushed her hands against his chest, backing away from his embrace.
"Don't," he suddenly replied.
"Don't what—"
"Don't," he stressed, and she could feel his warm breath on her face.
"Why not?" she continued, and she felt his body tense up against hers. "When someone says something like that to you, you're usually supposed to reply with something… well, anything, really. At least tell me if I'm just a toy, or… Or if you really don't care. But you saved me…. again. And you keep doing these things that confuse me, and—"
"You shouldn't have said it," he interrupted, his tone flat. And it stung.
"Well, I did—"
"You shouldn't have said it."
"What does that even mean?"
There was a momentary pause. "Because it changes nothing."
"What…? You mean… with Yamcha? With what's going to happen to me?"
"It changes nothing!" he shouted, and Bulma jumped. She felt him let go of her and back away. She felt the bed move and the mattress fold as he sat upright. She gulped. "Nothing will change, so why bother saying something so useless?"
"It's not useless to me… I wanted to say it, so I did. And yea, maybe I regret it a little, but I regret how you're reacting, not how I feel."
"That's exactly my point," he growled, but his voice was getting calmer. "Don't just say things because it makes you feel better."
"Then why do you kiss me? And why no one else? And why did you save me? Why do act like you care about me if you don't?"
"Are you stupid?" he spat, and another period of silence followed. "Nothing changes, woman," he said, after Bulma calmed her breathing. "What you said brings expectations. Expectations that I'm not willing to meet. You're going to go through with the mating, and you're going to have an Earthling child for my father. Now, you can either come back here when it's over and live your life as you have been. Or you can throw your ridiculous expectations on me and get let down. It's your choice."
"So… what you're saying is that you care… just not enough…"
"Enough? Enough?! Enough for what?" She felt him flip over and hold himself over her. She could feel his breath in her face and his legs beside each of hers. She felt his palms dig into the pillow on either side of her head. She could almost feel the heat coming off of his chest and settling down to rest on her upper body. "I'm not here to help you. I'm not here to make you feel better. You work for me. I give you a place to stay and I make sure you're fed and clothed and now it's not enough?!"
"That's not what I'm saying—"
"Then what are you saying?!"
"I'm not ungrateful to you. And I get that we have this… unspoken thing between us, whatever it is, but—"
"Don't you get it?! I can't stop my father!" he screamed, and Bulma's eyes went wide in the dark, desperately searching for his face and what expression he had. But she couldn't see him, and then his mouth descended on hers again, urgently. And his body dropped slowly, and she felt his weight on top of her, pressing down, nearly choking her. But after a few seconds, he placed his elbows on the bed and took some of his weight back. Bulma barely had time to think because his lips parted in the next second and his tongue slid between hers.
She gasped when she felt teeth, and he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it. She took a moment to breathe as he grunted and shifted, moving his mouth to the side, nipping her jawline. Bulma shivered when she felt his breath in her hair, and an unusual noise came out of her when his tongue met her ear. She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, but not before his teeth came out again and nibbled her. She let out a moan, and squirmed. She'd never heard that noise come out of her own mouth before, and she knew her face was getting hot. She could barely think…
His mouth moved down to her neck and he kissed her down to her shoulder, using his teeth again. Something stung for a moment and she yelped. The prince chuckled and moved further down, but Bulma knew that something strange was happening. The butterflies were back, and stronger than ever before. But it didn't feel right… She didn't want this… Not now.
"Vegeta," she breathed, placing one hand on his shoulder, and the other on top of his head. She gave him a light shove and he exhaled as he complied. But then Bulma regained her mind and something inside of her clicked. It finally hit her, and she felt so stupid for not realizing it until now… "Vegeta," she whispered again, this time sadly. She understood.
He did care…
But at the same time, he couldn't. And it was for the very same reasons that she couldn't care about him. Their worlds were too far apart… And it wouldn't work. Vegeta would have to defy his father and his planet in order to save her from her fate. And from what happened the last time he got into a fight with the king, Vegeta didn't stand a chance against the man… And she was just a servant. If she were to admit that she cared for him, she would be thrown out, or worse. And it wasn't even about her. If Vegeta were to care about anyone… For a Saiyan, that was only a weakness. For a Saiyan prince… it could mean death. His, or hers. God… she felt so stupid.
"You're right…," she said, lowering her eyes in the dark. She was grateful that he kept the lights off. "I shouldn't have said it." She reached a hand up and felt for his face. She caressed him for a moment before she felt him slump into her hand. And she just listened to him breathe for a little while.
He rolled off of her, onto his back, their shoulders touching, and grabbed her hand on his face. He pulled her wrist down so that her palm was face-down on his chest. He placed his hand over hers and pushed in a little. Bulma couldn't help but smile when she felt his heartbeat. And the rise and fall of his chest was steady and slow…
"You're tired," she whispered, and she flipped onto her side, facing him. She lifted her head and rested it on his shoulder. He was so warm…
"Not yet," he whispered back.
Without warning, he grabbed her hand again and brought it down to his waistband. He pushed his lips into her hair and for the first time, Bulma didn't even make a sound. She just laid there… and waited until he moved his hand back, leaving hers half on his waist and half on the top of his shorts. He didn't say anything, but she listened to his breathing pick up, especially when she bent a couple of her fingers, gently scraping the tips of her nails on his bare skin.
Bulma suddenly got a sense of déjà vu. This happened once before, after that night where the prince had forced her to lay beside him while he fucked one of his many whores. And after the night was over, she'd woken and… it had been something like this. But at the same time, very different.
"Vegeta, I…—"
"Touch me," he breathed, and her own breath got caught in her throat. What was so different this time? She wanted to think it was the same—he wanted her to do this just as much as last time. And she was still just as hesitant. But this time…
"Why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. But before he even answered her, she gently slid her middle finger under his waistband, feeling his lower body shiver for a fleeting moment.
"You still don't get it?" he asked, and the question was rhetorical. It had to be. Of course she understood, now. But understanding didn't make her less sad. If anything, finally understanding seemed like a heavy burden. After all, how could two people genuinely care about one another, and yet agree to never admit it? Especially after she'd already blurted it out before. It just didn't feel right.
But at the same time, it felt good. Although she was well aware that the prince could just be lying to her to get what he wanted, she could feel something. There were moments, however brief, that made her feel cared for… loved, even. She slid her ring finger under his waistband. And after a few moments, her hand and wrist were between the slippery silk of his shorts and the warmth of his skin. Her whole arm felt hot, and so did her face.
"I… I don't really know…"
His upper body tilted towards her and her wrapped his thick arms around her shoulders and her head, and she felt his mouth move through her hair. He just barely kissed her forehead before nuzzling her again.
Bulma gulped and slowly moved her hand down until she touched something… not something. She knew exactly what it was, but her brain was too focused on how nervous she was getting. She'd seen him with no clothes on hundreds of times. Granted, they were all glances, and she always looked away as soon as she could, but… she'd listened to this man fuck women all day and night, rock the bed so hard it creaked for the whole castle to hear. And here she was, barely able to even start.
She licked her lips and closed her eyes, trying to calm her drumbeat of a heart. Her ribs felt like they were going to bruise from how hard it was hitting her chest. Over and over. Over and over.
She stretched out her fingers until she could feel him on her fingertips, burning up. He was already hard, and it had been pulling on his shorts the whole time, stretching them forward. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around him as best she could and squeezed a little. He didn't move. He didn't even make a sound. She tried not to think too hard about it. Keeping her eyes closed, she slowly moved her hand up and then pumped him back down. She felt his lips part and he exhaled, his breathing right next to her ear. Her butterflies started coming back…
She did it again. And again, until she found a rhythm that felt good to her. She still wasn't sure what she was doing, and the prince's silence wasn't helping. For another minute, they stayed that way. He held onto her, but he didn't move and he barely made a sound, save for his breathing.
"Is it… Does it feel… okay?" Bulma whispered, and he just nodded, his face rubbing against hers. And after another minute, she heard his breathing finally get a little rougher. She tried pumping him a little faster, and she was rewarded with a light noise in his next exhale.
He grunted and reached down with one hand, placing his palm over hers. She paused what she was doing and he ripped off his shorts, throwing them on the other side of the bed. Then he grabbed her hand around him and squeezed. He pumped himself through her hand a few times before leaning his head down and matching his lips with hers. He let go of her hand and went back to holding her.
Bulma kissed him back and tried mimicking his movements on him, but she noticed how this kiss was different from the others. This time, his mouth moved slowly, almost like something was holding him back. She realized why when she moved her hand harder and faster and his lips just parted, and she kissed his lower lip, but he didn't move until she finally got what she'd been waiting for. Vegeta's whole body shook for a moment and he moaned. And then he grunted and went back to kissing her hard.
Bulma couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face, and she hoped to god that he didn't notice. And if he did, he didn't say anything about it.
It was easier for her to move her hand with his shorts out of the way, so she let her wrist do all the work and she continued pumping him. She couldn't deny that her arm was getting a little tired, but the rewards were just too good for her to stop. And something else in her brain told her that she wouldn't be able to, even if she wanted to.
Vegeta let out another moan and this time his legs shook the bed and she felt it for a second. His noises were coming more frequently now. In less than another minute, he did it again, this time grabbing her by her hair and pulling. Bulma yelped and he loosened his grip, but only to nuzzle her harder. She didn't even know how long she'd been rubbing him anymore.
"Fuck," he whispered suddenly. His voice was hoarse and breathy, and something warm abruptly erupted between her legs. She squeezed them together and focused on not slowing her hand. She was definitely tired, but whatever she was doing, she knew he was enjoying it. "Fuck," he repeated, and another round of moans hit him. Bulma barely noticed when she let a moan slip between her lips as well.
He quickly rolled onto his back, releasing her to grab at the sheets on his sides, digging his fingernails into the mattress. Bulma lifted her head and watched as his eyes lidded and he stared at the ceiling, his breathing loud and heavy. Her own lips parted, her mouth dry as all hell, and she ignored the tingling in her arm and pumped him faster.
"Fuck!" he shouted. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his head on the pillow under him. Bulma didn't stop, but she jumped when his body suddenly convulsed. And then he shuddered again. And again, and she realized that something hot was dripping down her hand. She slowed, but didn't stop. He convulsed again, and immediately rolled over to face her. He grabbed her and held her tight as his body shook against hers, his moans lighter and longer with each breath. She looked at him as she continued moving her hand up and down, smearing the warm liquid over them both. His eyes were shut, and his lips slightly parted. But then his eyes squeezed tighter and he gritted his teeth. His body tensed up and he shuddered again.
"Ah—no," he groaned, reaching his hand down and placing it over hers. She slowed, but he squeezed her hand tighter, making her stop completely. "Easy," he breathed, and slowly he opened his eyes to look at her. And Bulma couldn't help herself.
"I love you," she whispered. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. When he opened them, his expression was content. He leaned forward and gently kissed her on the cheek. Bulma flushed, wondering how red her face could possibly be by now.
She pulled back her hand once he moved his and she lifted it up. It was just barely dark enough so that she couldn't see what the hot liquid looked like, but she knew what it looked like… She'd seen it on too many women that came in here. Unfortunately, her thoughts getting the better of her, she was hit with a wave of sadness. She dug her face into Vegeta's chest before he could see anything, and thankfully it seemed like it worked.
"Sleep," he breathed, holding onto her. He pulled her as close as she could possibly be, save for her shirt between them. "You haven't slept in two days."
"Neither have you," she mumbled into him, and she felt him silently laugh.
"And whose fault is that?"
"That little bitch-princess." She paused. "And if it's going to be like this… I mean, us… like this… Well, you know what I mean…"
"Hmm?"
"You know you can't sleep with her. It's not right."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he grumbled. "Just sleep."
For some reason, she knew even without looking that he was rolling his eyes at her. And she couldn't stop the smile from breaking out on her face. She lifted her arms up and hugged him tight.
"Don't think I'll forget."
"Oh, I know you won't," he said. "And next time, if you leave your clothes on, I'm ripping them off."